Ada stiffened. In a soft and frightened voice, she said, “Today is about Hannah. It’s not about you and me.” She ducked out of the room, rolling her suitcase behind her.
This was not a long-term solution, she knew. Their secrets were becoming too enormous. They were bound to crush her and Peter both, plus Katrina, if they hadn’t yet.
Chapter Seventeen
It was a week after Hannah’s move-in date, and everything in Ada’s life felt out of sync. Finishing up a session with a patient in her office, Ada made a stupid error, calling the patient’s husband Randall instead of Jared, and as the patient winced, clearly hurt, Ada cursed herself. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and said, “I’m terribly sorry. It was a word slip. I remember Jared’s name. Of course I do!” However, her patient looked uncomfortable, shifting her weight in the chair until it was time to leave.
Ada was alone in her office, making notes to herself for a half hour, before she decided to leave and call Hannah. Natalie was packing up at her desk, turning off her computer, smiling at Ada. “Today felt long,” Natalie confessed, her tone cheerful. “Did it feel long to you?”
“So long!” Ada laughed falsely and waved as she left the office. “See you tomorrow. Thanks for your work today.”
Out on the sidewalk, Ada buttoned and unbuttoned her jacket and dialed Hannah’s number. Since she’d moved in, Ada had spoken to Hannah only thrice for ten minutes, but she’d gleaned enough to understand that Hannah was friends with Adelaide already. There were plenty of people on their floor whothe girls got along with, and they were considering joining the tennis club, which was less competitive than the tennis team—but far more fun. It seemed like things were off to the races. Thank goodness.
Hannah answered on the second ring. “Mom, can I call you back?”
Ada inhaled sharply, cursing herself for putting too much of her emotional happiness on her daughter. “Of course, honey. Have a great time. Love you.”
“Love you!” Hannah hung up, and Ada was dropped back onto the sidewalk in Nantucket with nothing to do the rest of the day. Kathy had moved back home two days ago. Kade had running club until late, and Olivia was trying out for the school’s fall play. Afterward, Peter agreed to pick up both children. Ada was “off duty,” so to speak. She felt “single” for the first time since she’d let Peter come into her dressing room at the opera house.
The first thing she did was visit a small bookstore downtown and purchase a novel. It had been ages since she’d let herself read to her heart’s content, so she bought a book and a coffee and sat in the autumnal light until it got too cold to sit outside. When she closed the book, she spotted some of the Salt Sisters across the street, laughing together as they meandered toward the boardwalk. Ada’s adrenaline spiked, but Katrina wasn’t among them.
Had Katrina told them what was up with her and Peter lately? Did they know that Peter was married? If they glanced across the street and saw Ada, would they speed up or slow down?
Ada was grateful when they disappeared around the corner.
Feeling too unfocused to read, Ada turned to social media and immediately saw a post from Quinn. She’d secured the top-billed role in the autumn production ofMadame Butterfly,which hundreds of people were already congratulating her for. Ada’s ears went hot. She scrolled and scrolled, got off the chair, walked down the road, and continued to scroll, nearly running into other walkers as she went.
She couldn’t spend her life this way. She considered throwing her phone in the ocean.
It was already seven, and when she turned the corner, she heard the first chords of the piano in the jazz bar coming through the cracked doorway. She felt like a moth to a flame.
Only two other people were in the jazz club, save for the pianist up front. The pianist was a woman in her forties or early fifties, with long, slender fingers and a beautiful neck that swept like a bow. Ada sat down, ordered a sparkling water, and listened for a while, letting her heart calm in her chest. Music! It had always been here. It would always be here. But what could jazz tell her about her marriage? What could jazz tell her about the next steps? She and Peter still weren’t speaking. It was as if she wanted to avoid the problem until it consumed her.
After the pianist finished her set, the others in the jazz club got up and left the bar, leaving the pianist and Ada alone with the bartender, who was drying dishes. The silence rang in her ears but was nevertheless pleasant. The pianist got up and stretched her arms over her head. Ada thought she was beautiful and so interesting. She’d lived her entire life for her art.
When the pianist turned her head to look out at the crowd, she flinched with surprise at the sight of Ada. “Oh! It’s you. The opera singer.”
Ada’s heartbeat quickened. She clutched the bottle of water.
The pianist smiled and dropped down off the stage, sitting at a table two away from Ada, still facing her. She wasn’t scary or overly familiar, strangely, and Ada didn’t feel like getting up and leaving.
“Sorry,” the pianist said. “I know you, and you don’t know me. I’m Marilyn Rondell. I was working in Manhattan when you were moving up in the opera world.”
Ada’s shoulders rolled forward and back. “Ah, okay. Hi. I’m Ada.”
“I heard a rumor that you were going to sing a few weeks back,” Marilyn said.
Ada snorted, remembering when she’d been forced on stage. Everything had exploded after that. She’d told Peter she knew about Katrina. She’d moved down the hall from their bedroom.
“She shouldn’t have forced you up like that,” Marilyn said quietly. “I remember what happened to you. It was a tragedy.”
Ada sniffed and dropped her gaze, surprised at how open-hearted she felt in front of this stranger. “It is what it is.” She shrugged.
Marilyn gestured for the bartender to pour her a glass of whatever she liked. “Do you want something?” she asked Ada.
Ada figured they were in for a real talk, and she needed it badly. “Okay.”
The bartender brought two glasses of white wine and turned on the speakers to play light jazz. It was a weekday and late in the season, and Marilyn said, “I’m guessing nobody else will join us tonight. If they do, I’ll get back up on that stage.”
